


Series of Mad Max Prompts

by puddinpotato



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Bickering brothers, Comedy, Fluff, Humor, War Boys Showing Affection (Mad Max), family road trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26126344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddinpotato/pseuds/puddinpotato
Summary: A series of Mad Max prompts old and new.  I've finally decided to post them here.  Just random happenings throughout the movies, though the ones I do have so far are mainly Fury Road, I'm up for about anything.  Keeping the rating light for now, but it will change once I post the others.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A five year old prompt I'm finally posting on AO3. A suggested car ride with Furi, Max, Slit, and Nux. I half assed it but I hope you like what I did do.
> 
> Slit and Nux run into car trouble and it's Furiosa and Max to the rescue. Based on bickering children in the backseat.

**Insufferable Slit**

How? Just how, and most of all why? But presently how? How did this come about? Just...fucking why?!

Oh yeah, they were stranded, it wouldn’t have been the right thing to pick them up. But oh how wrong was the right thing...

Max stayed silent, he was good at that after all, keeping to himself, worrying about himself, caring for no one but himself. Quite frankly, with that, sawing off his own ears would have helped himself greatly, for the ruckus in the back was enough to make him contemplate the idea.

Furiosa was no better off. At the helm, she was restricted from intervening with the bickering in the backseat, having put up with it far too long in her life, she was at least used to it. It still never failed to irritate her immensely when the two carried on for quite literally hours! How? Just how could they keep it up back there? Her grip on the wheel only tightened and she thought a hopeful glance Max's direction. The fool was just as annoyed.

“If you'd let me drive, this wouldn't've happened!” Slit berated his Driver, the younger male crossing his arms and scowling at the back of Furiosa's head. 

“If I'd let you drive, we would have lost more than a tire, mate,” Nux defended, cheeks puffing with his agitation towards his friend who only continued to further the aggression felt within the confines of the welded together War Rig cab.

“Says you. I was driving before you could even put an engine together,” Slit growled, nudging his comrade in the shoulder much to Nux's chagrin.

“Yeah, driving everyone insane with your incessant gloating. How did you get those scars again? Oh yeah, that's right—ow! Furiosa, Slit's hitting me!” he rubbed at his now sore shoulder, scooting away from his vexed friend who only continued the banter.

“Knock it off, cry baby.”

“You knock it off!”

“Furi, tell him who was the one who grabbed the wheel of the Doof Wagon when Winston got shot outta it.”

“That's only because I drove you to the cab, honestly Coma probably could have taken over, I don't doubt he's any worse a driver than you…”

“Worse a driver! Who the Fukushima taught you how to drive? Huh?”

“Oh I don't know, the Driver's in Gas Town, same as you,” Nux said, matter-of-factly, glaring out the window. Ignorance only rocketed Slit's rage further. He assaulted Nux again and the two were at a tussle in the backseat, Max and Furiosa finding it in their hearts finally to attempt to get their argument under control.

“Hey! Would you two knock it off!” Furiosa yelled, Nux's boot kicking the back of her seat, causing her herself to growl this time.

“Are they always like this?” Max asked, confused at the whole debaccle. 

She sighed, frustrated as she was kicked yet again. “For as long as I can remember—hey! I said knock it off!”

“ _Knock it off_ ,” Slit mimicked.

“He's biting me!” Nux yelled, pulling at Slit's scars in attempts to push him off, resulting in Slit back away long enough to tackle—or tackle as well as one could within the small space allowed—the sickly War Boy down to the floor.

“Do I need to come back there!?” Furiosa threatened.

“I'm waiting,” Slit teased, waggling his tongue at her once he got Nux in a more submissive position.

“Lizard filth,” Nux muttered, jabbing Slit in the chin, Slit taking to locking Nux's head in his elbow, Max exchanging one confused glance for the next between the fighting pair and the War Rig commander herself. Her glare was one of a frustrating vexation and she exhaled sharply through her nose before slamming on the break of the Rig, sending the fueding War Boys forward with perhaps not the manliest of yelps. With the two lodged between Max and Furiosa, the Imperator elbowed a head out of the way to shift up the Rig again.

“They're both a couple of immature Pups,” she mumbled, Max sliding out of the way of the two scarred War Boys as they at last obeyed Furiosa's direction and sat back down, calmly albeit grumpily, Slit especially. “Are you two done now?”

“That depends, are you gonna admit I should've drove?” Slit asked, hard glare on his partner who responded by sticking out his tongue, and the fight was on again.

Seeing Furiosa's temper flare, along with her nostrils, Max hunkered further against his door. “Maybe we should pull over, yeah? Give them some air...”

“Good idea!” she agreed, sliding the Rig to a halt in the sand, dust collecting around her wheels as she exited the vehicle, pulling open the back door with a forceful nature and, even more forcefully, dragged the two War Boys by their belts to thrust them to the ground. The Citadel was seen clearly in the distance, another few miles they'd be home, but Furiosa wasn't so certain she could make it that far with these two. Never should have picked them up, she thought.

Max watched curiously from the window as Furiosa slammed the Boys down, going off on some kind of lengthy tangent about their lack of maturity and overall ineptitude to get along that it amazed her they were ever paired up as a Pursuit team. She berated them, called them childish Pups, accused Slit several times of spitting fumes from his tailpipe and even reprimanded Nux for antagonizing Slit to do so. In the end, before either War Boy could issue any sort of rebuttle, she kicked the sand and climbed back up into the Rig, sighing against her metal fist before shifting the Rig once more, urging her forward.

Max watched, ever the confused golden retriever that he was as Furiosa quite blatantly carried on her way, a trailerless War Rig moving on quickly before Slit and Nux could even catch up, the both of them yelling and screaming for her to stop, Nux even apologizing until Slit pushed him into the sand for being so soft, taking off without him, Nux quick to recover and follow after. Both called for Furiosa to stop but she refused, and Max settled back into his seat, expectant look the woman's way.

She glowered back. “What?”

Averting his gaze, he coughed into his fist and looked away and out the passenger window. “Nothing...”


	2. Did You Jiggle It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A comedic little tale based on Furiosa's gas powered arm and the experience of many of us trying to start a lawnmower that just won't start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as time and place, really at any point in Furiosa's War Rig driving days.

**Did You Jiggle It?**

  
  


"Furi, come on, let's go!"

"The Wasteland waits for no man!"

"Or girl!"

"What are you even doing in there!?"

Furiosa grumbled, muttering obscenities under her breath of her brothers' impatience and of her left arm's sudden ineptitude. The metal device wasn't functioning properly, and had she the time, she would have discarded the new arm to go in search of her old one. Sure it was rusted by now, and a bit ground up after meeting an enemy saw, but it sure as shit would have been more useful than this one right now!

She pulled on the rip cord, once, twice, thrice, and still the damn thing wouldn't start. The minutes she spent trying to urge the arm to work wore on her brothers long enough for them to return, urging her hurry, there was supplies to be delivered and they were eager to get out of the Citadel. "Did you put gas in it?" Skinny asked, Morsov bouncing in behind him.

"Yes, I put gas in it!"

"Did you jiggle it?" Morsov asked, coming to invade her personal space, observing her arm from over her shoulder. "Sometimes ya gotta jiggle things to make em work." He was met with an elbow to his stomach.

"I did jiggle it," Furiosa snapped, pulling at the cord again, resulting in a sputtering of the tiny engine within the metal limb, but still it did not ignite. 

Then Sprockets asked, "Did you pull the chord, wait three seconds, give it a half pull, then try again?"

"You think I don't know how to turn on my own arm?" She spat back, growling in frustration as she hastily undid the belts keeping her arm in place, pulling the thing off of her to attempt to start it at a better angle.

Over and over she pulled the cord, the engine still only sputtering, coming to life at long last. Furiosa heaved a sigh of relief, her brothers congratulating her half heartily before expressing their impatience yet again to hit the road. The engine stopped then and everyone groaned in response, Furiosa coming close to chucking the limb across the room.

"Just take it like it is," said Morsov.

"She can't use the fingers if it don't start," said Sprockets.

"We'll fix it on the way," said Skinny.

"Don't be stupid," Sprockets replied, clapping his fellow War Boy on the back of the head. "It'd be a liability if we ran into trouble."

"It's just a supply run," Morsov argued, growing ever more antsy. He couldn't spend another minute within the confines of the Citadel when the Last Road was waiting for them. And Gastown girls! "No one's stupid enough to tread on our roads."

"Roadkill get pretty brave," Skinny stated.

"Will you all shut up!" 

All three War Boys turned to the enraged Furiosa, the woman fuming in her frustration as she slammed the arm down. Before she could berate her crew further, the old Ace came stalking in, as frustrated as Furiosa and as impatient as his young and fighty crew. "What's the hold up in here!?" He demanded, eyes focused on the three youths as they would be the ones causing a delay if it were any of them. "Why ain't you boys with the Rig? Morsov, you're supposed to be with Elvis already."

"It's Furi that's delayin," Morsov defended, pointing to the angry Furiosa as she attempted to start the arm up once more.

"Boss, what's wrong with your arm?"

"Stupid thing won't start," she muttered, pulling again.

"Did you jiggle it?"

"Ace!" She shouted, almost baring teeth she was so flustered.

The Ace approached her with nary a concern of her anger or the danger she might present with yet another War Boy's invading presence. He took up the arm, gave it a once over, tapped at the engine with his knuckles and yanked on the rip cord. The arm started up perfectly, little engine purring with life and Furiosa stared at it a moment, surprised.

"Get your arm on, let's go," said the Ace, tossing her the limb and pulling the trio of War Boys along with him, barking orders which they quickly obeyed.

Furiosa sighed, angrily still, snorting at the arm before shrugging it on and fastening the belts as she walked. Suffice it to say, she was embarrassed, but nobody, not even her crew, were going to say anything about it. 


	3. Mr. Grumpy Grills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil Slit and Nux prompt (again from five years ago) based on Max and Jessie interactions. Slit and Nux get to leave the Citadel at long last, but a stop at a Gastown outpost has Nux in a not so celebratory mood.

**Mr. Grumpy Grills**

He didn’t know what had crawled up into his Driver’s ass, took a shit and died, but Slit was growing quite agitated with the younger War Boy’s moping. Was it something he said, for Slit could say many a cruel and mean thing. Something he did? Nux could usually shrug off all his words and actions with a casual shoulder, too used to the pokes and jabs sent on him from his Lancer. So it couldn’t have been something Slit had done, could it? He’d called him a meager Pup here and there, if only because age was on his side. Pushed him aside like soft paper, though Nux was taller Slit was bigger. Slit never degraded him for his driving though, nor the car the boy had built, for it was an exceptional vehicle. So why the glare through the windshield?

Their troupe hadn’t moved from their stop at the outpost in hours, deeming it a well enough space to rest for the night, play about, spar with one another while they waited for their next move. Strange for Nux not to commune with their brethren, for he was more prone to do so than Slit on most occasions. Yet here he sat, curled in his seat with his arms crossed, staring out over the empty Wasteland.

Sky blue eyes flitted to the bobble of the bird’s skull on his dash, tipped from Slit’s finger as he stretched his arm through the sunroof. Nux glared up at his smirking Lancer. “I’m not grumpy,” he grumbled, staring back out the window, obviously grumpy.

Slit sighed, sliding back to his perch, looking quite grumpy himself. Maybe Nux was bored? Disappointed? From what with either though? “We’re not staying here forever, Nux,” he said, flicking at the streams of fabric tied about his thundersticks. Nux didn’t answer, though Slit knew his Driver well enough to know he was mumbling some discouraging thing under his breath. Always had a rebuttal to make, Nux did. 

“We’ve been here all day, I thought we were leaving hours ago.”

Finally some words from the other War Boy and Slit perked up at Nux’s response. It was something at least. “Not my call,” said Slit, crawling back over the roof to peer in towards his ornery comrade. “Sun’s already set, and we’re not far from Buzzard territory. We ain't moving tonight.”

Nux sighed, turning his wheel a short this way and that dejectedly. Slit scowled at the boy’s pouting, looking over towards their brothers laughing and howling with the Gastown Boys, one waving an arm for Slit to join them in their merrymaking. 

“Just go, Slit. Know you like being here more than me,” Nux mumbled, itching to leave, knowing they couldn’t for the rest of their group were happy to partake in the debilitating drink offered to them by Gas Towners. 

When Nux was given the chance to go on a scouting trip with the older War Boys he was all too happy to join, Slit even more so, and Nux was excited to turn sand under his tires, show the others how he could make his car fly with her speed. At first, it was exhilarating, perhaps one of the happiest days of Nux’s half-life, able to show off his car and his expertise with her. It was short lived however, for when they reached the outpost Nux learned of their true intentions. 

An hour they promised, two at the most, just to reacquaint themselves with brothers long missed from Citadel, put into Gastown’s faction of War Boys, a much dirtier lot than those back home in Citadel. Called Nux clean and pristine, a pretty little doll compared to their smoky and greasy lot. Thus Nux, after getting into a spat that resulted in bruises on both of them, decided his car was much better company than Gastown boys ever were. This fact was what Slit had not caught onto, but the Lancer still managed something.

A series of taps on his roof with his palms, pauses, more taps; it hadn’t occurred to him Slit was speaking to him through Code before he hopped from the car, taking the Gastowners up on their offer to join. Nux caught him before he left. “And what was that supposed to mean?” he asked, not catching many of the symbols.

Slit scoffed, offered a debonair smirk as he was apt to do. “Crazy bout ya,” he answered, pleased at last to see Nux smile, though it was more or less one of sarcasm if anything. It counted, Slit decided, and he turned to leave his Driver.

“Kamikrazee?”

”Don't make me say it again. Now get your ass over here. Anyone else gives ya flack I’ll shove a fist up their tailpipe.”

Nux rolled his eyes, but obeyed, doll or not, at least he had Slit on his side.

XXX


End file.
